


Support

by shimotsuki



Series: Warp and Weft [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 02:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20900264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimotsuki/pseuds/shimotsuki
Summary: June 1998: Remus is slowly finding his place in the world after the war, but a request from Kingsley threatens to shake everything up again.





	1. Initiation

Teddy woke, fussing. 

Tonks dropped her quill and scooped him out of his basket, cuddling him for a minute, but he was hungry and let her know that in no uncertain terms. So she tucked him against her shoulder and carried him out to the kitchen, away from the dining room where three heads bent low over dusty books and piles of parchment. 

She had just finished feeding the baby when an unfamiliar, slightly pompous voice filled the kitchen. “Floo call for Mr. Remus Lupin from the Minister for Magic. Will Mr. Lupin take the call?”

“I’m his wife,” said Tonks. “Will I do?”

“Wotcher, Tonks.” Kingsley’s head appeared in the flames, smiling. “Is Remus there?”

“Wotcher!” She grinned back. “He’s here, buried in Wizengamot records.”

“All right if I come through and talk with him?”

Tonks blinked. Kingsley was much too busy these days for casual chats. “Of course.” She stood and shifted Teddy to one hip.

Kingsley emerged from the fireplace, brushing soot from his robes. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s—” She sighed, and smiled a little, leading him toward the dining room-turned-library. “It’s been really good, actually. I’m giving Harry and Ron some tutoring on Auror procedures.” And healing from the battle, and spending time with her husband and son and mother. “And I’m helping with the J.M.L.C. project as much as I can. On a strictly volunteer basis, of course.”

“J.M.L.C.?”

“Oh.” Tonks grinned again. “The Justice in Magical Legislation Committee. Hermione named it.” At least the budding activist had learned to stay away from pronounceable acronyms—it could easily have been the Werewolf Injustice Mitigation Program...

Remus, hearing voices, had left his seat at the table and come to meet them. “Hello, Kingsley! I’m glad to have a chance to introduce you at last—this is Matthias Malkin. Matthias, Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

“Minister,” said Matthias politely. He stood and shook hands courteously enough, but he looked wary. For all Remus’s assurances that Kingsley was sincere in commissioning their research project, Matthias had spent more than five years with Fenrir Greyback’s pack and wasn’t completely ready to believe that the Ministry would ever do anything about discrimination.

“And—Hermione?” Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m an intern! I’m on the project until I go back to Hogwarts in September.” 

Remus grinned. “She just turned up one day and appointed herself—as a volunteer—but she’s been an enormous help, and Matthias and I are certainly not complaining.”

Hermione smiled brightly. “I want to study magical law and civil rights once I’ve taken my N.E.W.T.s, and this is a marvellous way to start learning about actual legislation.”

Kingsley snorted. “I suppose so.” Remus’s little group was tasked with nothing less than locating every single law that discriminated against non-human magical creatures, so that they could eventually be repealed and overturned. “I can’t even start paying Remus and Matthias for their work until the anti-werewolf employment legislation is repealed, and even then I won’t have very much of a budget for the project, considering everything else that needs to be done in the aftermath of the war. But as long as you’re volunteering, it’s good to have your help.”

“Did you want an interim report?” asked Remus. “We’re making good progress, but our notes aren’t necessarily in a very polished form at the moment—”

“I can see that it’s, erm, work in progress.” Kingsley eyed the haphazard stacks of parchment, covered in notes scribbled by four different people, and couldn’t quite suppress his smile. “Actually, I’m here for another reason.” 

He took a seat at the table, and the others sat down as well, Tonks settling a now-sleeping Teddy back into his basket.

“As you know, a number of children were infected with lycanthropy during the war,” said Kingsley quietly.

Remus and Matthias both winced. Greyback and his pack—or at least, those who hadn’t taken to Remus’s trick of chewing aconite leaves to suppress their appetite during transformations—had been the main source of new cases, especially among children.

“I want to start an education and support group, to help the children and their parents deal with their condition, and to make it easier to keep them supplied with Wolfsbane. I’m picturing a sort of monthly group meeting, maybe with some games and sweets to make it more fun for the children.” Kingsley looked Remus straight in the eye. “And I’d like you to run it.”

Tonks drew a breath. Remus would be _perfect_ for this—he’d always been a natural teacher, and who better to help the children with their lycanthropy than someone who had been managing the condition for decades?

But Remus was shaking his head.

“I’m honoured that you would ask me, Kingsley,” he said, slowly. “But I have my own child to think of, now. Doing research behind the scenes is one thing, but if I were to become some sort of public face for werewolf activism, I might become a target. If I were on my own, that wouldn’t be such a problem. But I can’t expose Teddy to that kind of risk.”

Kingsley stared. He had plainly not expected this. “Will you think about it for a few days?” he asked, finally.

“I will,” said Remus, carefully, “but I don’t expect my answer to change.”

Tonks put her hand on his arm. “Teddy isn’t any more likely to be a target, if you start helping werewolf children, than he already is just because I’m an Auror.”

Remus met her gaze; his eyes were troubled. “Even if the risk is minuscule,” he said, “it wouldn’t be right for me to put Teddy in _any_ extra danger.”

Tonks thought he was making the wrong decision. 

But it was, after all, his decision to make.

* * *

Three days later, the J.M.L.C. had adjourned for the full moon. 

Tonks sat in the kitchen, sipping tea and keeping a judicious eye on Remus, watching his bouts of restless energy grow shorter and the exhaustion begin to take over. Waiting for the right moment to persuade him to _go lie down._

When the Floo turned green, it made both of them jump.

“Remus?” It was Kingsley himself putting the call through, this time. He sounded tense.

“I’m here.” Remus dropped stiffly to his knees and peered into the fire. “What is it?”

“We’ve just had a report of a case of accidental magic by a five-year-old-girl—she’s closed herself inside some kind of bubble. The mother’s a Muggle and can’t get her out.” He glanced at a sheaf of notes in his hand. “The father was a wizard, but he died in the war.” He turned back to Remus. “Would you go handle it?”

“I—” Remus looked unhappy.

“Kingsley,” said Tonks, “it’s full moon in just a few hours. Remus doesn’t have the energy to spare, and he feels like crap. Can’t you send someone else?”

Kingsley sighed. “That’s just it. The little girl is a werewolf, and it seems she’s panicking about the transformation.” 

Remus swallowed, rubbing at his temples—he probably had a headache by now, too. “It’s all right, Dora. I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” said Kingsley. “I owe you, again.” He passed a slip of paper with the child’s name and Floo direction through to Remus and cut the connection.

“We’re going with you,” said Tonks, before Remus could say a word. “In case you need help Flooing back.” She slid Teddy into his infant sling and peered at the note Remus was holding. “Caroline Kimball, yeah?”

* * *

They spilled out of the Floo into a small but comfortable living room. A slight young woman with dark hair pulled back and hazel eyes bright with unshed tears was there to meet them.

“Oh, thank goodness—you must be from the Ministry,” she quavered. “Please help—there’s not much more time before moonrise...”

In one corner of the room stood a large blue luminescent bubble, giving off a sort of agitated shimmer. “That’s Caroline?” asked Remus. At the woman’s nod, he went straight to the bubble and began casting exploratory spells.

“Mrs. Kimball?” said Tonks. The woman nodded again, and Tonks gave her the friendliest smile she could conjure around her worry for Remus. “That’s my husband, Remus Lupin. I’m Tonks. And, erm, this is Teddy.”

“Elspeth Kimball,” the woman said, and even managed to spare a small smile for the sleeping baby. “He’s a new little fellow.”

“Born just before the end of the war,” said Tonks, softly, mindful that the war had brought something very different for this young widow.

By now, Remus had carved a sort of porthole into the bubble and was peering through it. “Caroline?”

“I’m Callie,” came a petulant voice from inside.

“Hello, Callie. I’m Remus.” He smiled a little. “This is quite a lovely bubble you’ve made, but it’s time to come out now. I need to wave my wand and make it disappear. Are you ready?”

“No.” Tonks could _hear_ the pout, all the way across the room. “I’m hiding.”

Remus grimaced, but he kept his voice low and calm. “What are you hiding from?”

“The moon.” Now there was a little sniffle. “If it finds me, I have to turn into a wolf. But I don’t want to! It _hurts!_”

“I know,” said Remus, still gently, but with an undertone of raw anguish that made Tonks blink, hard. “I know. But the bubble won’t stop it, Callie. You’ve got to come out.”

He swept his wand in a rapid circle, and the bubble vanished. Now Tonks could see a thin little girl, huddled on the floor. Tears streaked her face.

“You’re a brave girl,” said Remus, his voice gone hoarse. “You’ll be all right.”

“I don’t want to!” Callie was sobbing now. “I don’t want to turn into a wolf!”

“I know.” Remus folded himself down to sit on the floor, wincing slightly. “I have to turn into a wolf, too, and I don’t want to, either. But we have to—there’s no way to stop it.”

Elspeth Kimball’s hand clenched tightly on Tonks’s arm.

“He’s a werewolf?” she gasped. “The Ministry sent a _werewolf_ into my house?”

Tonks stared.

The woman had started to shake. “It was a werewolf that killed my husband, and did _this_ to my little girl!” 

Tonks forced herself to take a very deep breath.

“And it was a werewolf that did this to Remus,” she said, levelly. “When he was _four_.”

Mrs. Kimball flinched, but then she let go of Tonks, and nodded, jerkily.

“Remus is no monster.” Tonks kept her voice quiet, but her fists had clenched. “Just as Callie isn’t, and won’t ever be, because she has a mother to love her, and people like Remus—” _Merlin willing_—“to learn from.”

Across the room, Callie was staring at Remus now, her own tears forgotten. “You’re a werewolf, too?”

“I am.” He reached out and smoothed a hand over her hair. “We can’t stop the change, Callie, but there are things we can do to make it hurt a little less. I only have time to show you one thing today, but—” 

He shot a slightly guilty look at Teddy, and then at Tonks.

But she grinned a very wide grin and nodded, hard.

Remus smiled, a little wryly, and turned back to the little girl, who had decided to creep up close to his knee. 

“I’ll come again soon,” he promised, “and show you some more.”

* * *


	2. Recruiting

Elspeth was curled up in a corner of the sofa, leafing through a magazine and keeping one eye on her small daughter. Callie had had a rough couple of days, but now she seemed happy enough, bent over a colouring book with a new set of crayons.

It was shaping up to be a nice quiet evening, really—until the fireplace roared to life, with those utterly unnatural green flames.

Elspeth started, dropping her magazine on the floor. She never would get used to that Flue—no, it was Floo—well, that _thing_.

"Good evening, Mrs. Kimball," came a low and slightly hoarse voice through the flames. A man's head appeared, hatless and with hair a little longer than his collar. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to call and see how Caroline is doing."

It was _him_. That werewolf, the one the Ministry for Magic had sent, before the moon. Lupin.

Callie recognised him, too, and sat up straight with a big smile. "Hullo!"

Lupin turned his head and saw her, and smiled back. "Hello, Callie. How are you feeling?"

She considered this for a moment. "My arm hurts," she decided, holding it up to show him the large plaster that covered a gash on her forearm. "And my back hurts, and my ankle hurts. And I've a headache."

Lupin nodded, solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you look pretty good to me, all in all. I think you'll be just fine in another day or two." He turned back to Elspeth and raised a silent eyebrow.

Elspeth swallowed nervously, but nodded back. "It really wasn't too bad this time. She was so upset before the change—I was expecting—" She stopped. Callie was listening, of course. "I think that breathing exercise you showed her really helped." She swallowed again. "Thank you."

Lupin's face brightened.

There was no need to be afraid of him, she reminded herself. He had been nothing but helpful and patient with Callie.

Even though he was a werewolf.

But of course, so was Callie, now.

"I'm glad," said Lupin. Then he hesitated. "I can teach her more coping strategies like that, if you like. There's plenty of time before the next moon. And there's that potion I told you about..."

"I remember," said Elspeth. The one that might keep werewolves from hurting themselves, he meant. "Can we—can I get some of that for Callie?"

"Absolutely," said Lupin. "Would you two like to come for dinner some day soon? We could talk about the potion, and about when Callie can practise some more exercises."

Dinner. With a werewolf.

At the werewolf's house.

Elspeth felt her throat closing up in panic. Every night, alone in her room trying to sleep, she could still hear the horrible howling and growling, and her daughter's screams, and her husband shouting, "It's me they've come for! Get Callie inside!"

Those had been Jonathan's last words.

"I could Floo over, and bring you and Callie back through," Lupin was saying. "It would only take a moment. Have you traveled by Floo before?"

Elspeth could only stare, fighting to breathe.

"Can't we go, Mummy?" said Callie.

A second head appeared in the flames. Lupin's wife, the one with the short spiky hair (although it seemed to be longer today, and curly).

Mrs. Lupin met Elspeth's panicked gaze straight on. "Why don't I come through," she said, calmly, "and Floo back here with you and Callie. Tomorrow's Saturday—how would that be? Or Sunday?"

"To-tomorrow would be fine," Elspeth managed. Mrs. Lupin was an Auror. Like Jonathan had been. "What can I bring?"

Lupin backed out of the Floo to let his wife finish making the arrangements, but not before Elspeth saw his smile turn wry.

She felt a pang of guilt, then. Lupin had given her no reason at all to be afraid of him.

But she couldn't help it.

* * *

Elspeth spun through the green flames—_Keep your elbows tucked well in_, Jonathan had always said—and emerged in a bright, spacious kitchen.

An elegant woman turned to face them when they clattered out of the Floo. "Welcome, Mrs. Kimball, and Caroline," she said. "I'm Andromeda Tonks. Nymphadora's mother."

"Don't _call_ me that, Mum," muttered Mrs. Lupin, behind Elspeth's shoulder.

"I'm _Callie_," came from below in nearly identical tones. Elspeth smiled in spite of herself.

"Please," she said, taking her own turn, "call me Elspeth."

But Callie was studying the lovely woman in the big white apron. "Are you a wolf, too?"

Elspeth winced. She had begun to get the idea that asking that question was a serious faux pas in wizarding culture. And indeed, something unidentifiable flashed behind Mrs. Tonks's eyes.

Elspeth made to apologise, but their host crouched down to Callie's level. "No, dear. I'm not."

Lupin came into the kitchen, then, with the baby on his shoulder. "Hello, Callie," he said, with a warm smile. "Mrs. Kimball," he added, a little more carefully. "Welcome."

"Teddy's awake again already?" asked the baby's mother, bemused.

"Awake and alert." Lupin grinned. "I've changed his nappy, and he's ready to take on the world."

The baby blinked wide, dark eyes at Elspeth. He really was sweet.

"He's _tiny._" Callie stood on tiptoes to see better.

"He's not even two months old," said Mrs. Lupin, smoothing down the fuzzy hair on top of her son's head. Elspeth blinked—the baby's hair looked almost _turquoise_. You never knew what you might see, with wizards.

"Callie," said Lupin suddenly, "would you like to hold Teddy?"

"Yes!" Callie's eyes shone.

"Remus—" Andromeda Tonks swallowed the rest of what she had been going to say, but Elspeth could read the _are you sure about this?_ in her eyes, clear as day.

Her stomach twisted, and it was all she could do not to be sick right there.

The Healers and the people from Werewolf Support Services, when they spoke with Elspeth after the attack, had only hinted and danced around the truth. But she didn't need to be an expert in lycanthropy to understand that several of her magical friends, despite going out of their way to assure her that she could still count on them after losing Jonathan, had done a sudden silent vanishing act when they learned that Callie had been bitten.

Distrust. Fear. Stigma. This was Callie's future.

Her happy, clever little girl.

Except—perhaps Mrs. Tonks had read Elspeth's thoughts, because she was speaking again, gently. "It's just that Callie is only five. That's all."

"She'll be fine," said Lupin, calmly. "I'll show her how. Callie, let's go and sit on the sofa."

He led the way out of the kitchen, with Callie tripping along beside him. Elspeth followed, and the others came behind her.

Lupin installed Callie in a corner of the living-room sofa, with a cushion under her elbow to keep her steady. Then he transferred the baby to her arms.

Teddy looked up at his new admirer and broke into a wide toothless grin.

"You see?" said Lupin, laughing. "He likes you."

Callie grinned back at the baby, utterly delighted.

Elspeth watched them all. The happy baby. Her daughter, trying something she had never done before. Mrs. Lupin, just about bursting with love and pride. Mrs. Tonks, watching the whole scene benevolently from a slight remove.

And then there was Lupin, looking much healthier than he had been on the day of the full moon, guiding Callie with his kind words and quiet voice.

The people in this house had found room in their hearts for a werewolf.

Maybe _this_ was Callie's future, too.

Two quick steps brought her to Lupin's side. She touched his arm.

He turned, startled.

"You're a marvellous teacher." Elspeth met his gaze straight on for the first time, and, beneath his surprise, she could see warmth and steadiness. "Please—anything you can teach Callie—I'll be so grateful."

"Callie's not the only child to be bitten in the war," he said. "The Minister has asked me to set up some sort of support group. I'm only just getting started, but I do have some ideas."

"I'm a Muggle, as you know." Elspeth squared her shoulders. "But I want to help with this. I'll do what I can."

"That's all anyone can do," said Mrs. Tonks. "Nymphadora, come and help me with the roast."

Mrs. Lupin rolled her eyes. "Elspeth, don't listen to her when she uses that name. Call me _Tonks_, for Merlin's sake."

Elspeth laughed. Lupin joined her.

She was so glad they had come.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 was originally posted at the **day_by_drabble** community on LiveJournal in February 2012. (Thanks to the mods, **mrstater** and **godricgal**, for keeping the LJ fic-fires burning.) Chapter 2 was added for the version posted to FanFiction.net in June 2017. I have no specific plans to extend this story, but there may be more chapters in the future, if inspiration strikes.


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